


to die by your side

by dingletragedy



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Canon Related, Gun Violence, M/M, Spoilerish, no one dies ... but they might, two idiot boys crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-10 01:31:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20519753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dingletragedy/pseuds/dingletragedy
Summary: He can’t do this.He can’t lose another person he cares about.At least, not without letting them know how much they mean to him.or, the one where hunter shoots ben





	to die by your side

**Author's Note:**

> this was prompted by a lovely anon on tumblr before the spoilers came out last night! i've never done anything like this before so i'm not sure i've really got the vibe of it right but i tried! 
> 
> i hope you enjoy and sorry!!!! <33

People are screaming, unable to look at Hunter or Jack, who is already bloodied and bruised, body sagged at Hunter’s feet. 

Mel is there too, in Hunter’s eye-line but a few feet back. What does it say when his own mother is too fearful to be in close proximity? “Hunter,” she tries, “there’s other ways, we can - can run away like - like we planned. Just me and - and you. No one needs to know about any of this. Okay?”

“No! No it’s not okay,” Hunter says firmly, aiming the gun directly at his own mother. “Get on your knees. Now.” 

"Put - put the gun down, okay? You've made your point.” It’s Max, pleasing for his brothers life. 

“You see Max, that’s just the point - there isn't one anymore,” Hunter laughs, a cold, hollow sound bouncing from wall to wall. “I’ve got nothing left to lose.” 

Callum turns to look at Ben, assessing from the look on the other man’s face that this is serious, life threatening even. “Don’t look at him,” Hunter screams, and both men turn back around to face their captor. “This. This is his fault. If it wasn’t for his stupid little games - winding my Mum up - bringing Lisa home, I would be long gone by now.” 

“You’ve still got time mate. Hobble along will ya, you’re kind of ruining the party here,” Ben mocks as Hunter determinedly angles the gun at him, unwavering. 

“Oh you think you’re so smart, don’t you?” Hunter says, dry laughter echoing like a siren around the room. “We’ll see who’s laughing when I fucking shoot you.” He’s got this maniacal glint in his eyes that Callum’s never seen before. He feels as if he’s watching a horror movie play out before his very eyes.

“I ain’t scared of you Hunter,” Ben says. The _well you fucking should be_ ringing around Callum’s ears goes unsaid. 

“Shut up!” Hunter screeches. “Just - just shut up. _ God _. You never shut up, do you? You never know just when to - when to keep your fucking mouth shut.”

“You seem to think-” Ben starts, but it falls on deaf ears. 

“Get on your knees!” Hunter shouts forcefully, stepping closer to mass of wedding guests, arm still extended, gun in hand. And then: “All of you! Now!” 

“Why have you come back now? What’s the point?” Callum says suddenly, shocking even himself. His voice barely a whisper, shaking with a vulnerability stripped bare for all to see.

“The point, _Groom boy,_” Hunter looks pointedly at him, “Is that _he_ needs to pay,” he says with the gun pointing back at Jack’s head. “And him.” **_Max._** “And her.”**_ Lisa._** “And him” _**Ben.**_ “All of you need to pay!” 

And then: a gunshot. It’s aimed towards the bar, no victim in shot, but Callum knows it was a warning. 

It happens so fast but it feels like everything is slowed right down, like Callum can see each individual sparkling shard of glass as it splinters outward and showers the bar, leftover bubbly spraying like a dew.

It’s manic. Callum barely has a second to process anything before Hunter raises his voice again.

“Now I swear you better do as I say or I’ll shoot the whole lot of you.”

“Hunter…please just-”

“No, no! You’re not fucking listening to me!” Hunter screams intensely, eyes raging in fiery flames. “Shut up!”

“You went to prison because of what _ you _did, not-”

“Did I not just say to shut the fuck up?” Hunter shouts indignantly, interrupting Ben’s jeering as he straightens his slacking arm, re-positioning the gun.

Ben’s mouth snaps shut in earnest consternation, now fearfully obeying Hunter’s commands.

It seemed, within that moment, that all the air around them became frozen, smoke from the gun so cloying and thick that it clogged their mouths and their noses and their eyes. After a few seconds of eerie silence Hunter raised his gun to Jack’s head. The scatter of screams came within an instance, it’s not a sound Callum will ever forget; the haunted, petrified screams of Denise, of Max, of _Ben. _

The second shot rang out. 

_ Deafeningly. _

_ Endlessly. _

It was louder than he’d ever imagined. It sounded unthinkably close. He stands lifeless for a moment, frozen with an impending fear. 

-

When he dares to open his eyes all he can see is pushing and shoving and banging shoulders, guests toppling over each other to get outside. The whole pubs is quiet now, eerily so. The echoes of the barbaric screaming long-since faded, but when Callum holds his breath, he could swear he could still hear the shrill of their screams. Lola’s screams. Jay’s screams.

_ Ben’s scream. _

Time slows and he can’t feel his fingers all of a sudden. His heart leaps up into his throat, beating wildly, and suddenly he feels sick. 

Sick because Ben isn’t knelt beside him anymore. 

“Ben!” he screams, it sucks all the energy out of him and he can hardly breathe under this crushing fear. “Shit. Ben!”

-

He feels out of body, heart racing and tears in his eyes as he when he elbows another man out of the way, shoves and barges his way to Ben, who’s outnumbered and scrambling around on the floor.

Callum drops to his knees in front of him instantly, mouth agape and hands hovering in the air, unsure of what to do. His heart drops as his eyes flicker over Ben’s face, over the blood on his shirt and the bruises on his face.

“Cal,” Ben chokes, face wet, and Callum can feel the tickle of his own tears on his chin, leaking down and dropping onto the front of his suit. 

“Yeah it’s me. I’m here,” Callum confirms desperately, wheezing as his vision starts to blur with the weight of his tears. 

“Hurts.” Ben says, eyes squeezing shut against the pain. 

“Where does it hurt, Ben?” Callum asks, and yeah it’s a stupid questions, considering the blood on Ben’s shirt shows exactly where. 

Ben, unable to form a proper response, just crumbles and breaks down. Callum hushes him, hands still suspended just in front of Ben’s face, unsure if he should touch. He settles one of his hands where his neck meets his shoulder, stroking his thumb below his chin.

“Everywhere,” Ben manages to choke out, almost inaudibly . “It hurts everywhere.”

“Give me your jacket,” Callum demands, not entirely sure who he’s shouting at. “Now!”

He can hear movement behind him in seconds, Mick dropping to his knees to add his blazer under Callum’s blood soaked hands. “The police will be here soon, Halfway. You’re doing a great job.” 

Callum ignored him, he had to, he couldn’t focus his energy on anything other than Ben, and keeping him alive. Mick must’ve sensed his need for space, because eventually he got up and stood back with the crowd of shaken punters. 

“Ben look at me,” Callum says urgently, Ben was hyperventilating wildly, his chest rising and falling at alarming rates. “Ben. You need to breathe. I know it hurts but you have to breathe.”

“Can’t-” he says, and his breathing picks up suddenly, panic-fast. 

“Ben, please,” Callum whispers. His tears fall like pearls, cool against his clasped hands. “I need you to breathe. It won’t be so bad if you breathe. In and out, slow and deep, okay?”

Callum ducks his head down so he can meet Ben’s wild eyes, breathing audibly and calmly in an attempt to get Ben to follow. He squeezes his eyes shut, counting slowly to ten in his head, trying to calm himself down. If he lost himself now, right now, when Ben needed him the most, he’d never forgive himself.

Seconds seem like minutes, minutes like hours, but eventually Ben’s breathing slows, shudders still wracking through him but with less vigor than previously. 

“Fuck!” Ben screams when he steadies his breath somewhat. Callum flinches at how loud it is, at how wrecked Ben’s voice sounds. 

Callum can hardly focus. The air so sharp it almost hurt to breathe. The silver sheen of his own cuff-links catching the light as if to mock him, the deep purple of Ben’s suit clashes with the blood smeared on his own hands. Ben’s blood. 

"Hunter?" Ben’s questioning, eyes flickering around the room, and there’s pure, wild panic swirling behind them.  
  
Callum strokes at his face. "Gone." He mumbles. "He ain’t gonna hurt you again. He's gone Ben, I promise."

“I didn’t mean to wind - wind him up so much - I didn’t -” Ben squeezes between increasingly shallow breaths. “I’m sorry.“ 

“Don’t you dare apologies,” Callum hisses. “Don’t you dare. You don’t deserve any of this, Ben. You don’t.”

“I need you to know Cal. I’m sorry - for everything. I never meant to male things difficult for ya.” His voice is thick, starting to panic. It breaks Callum’s heart, no matter how much he tries to block it out, to ignore it and focus on the wound. 

“You wouldn’t be Ben Mitchell if you weren’t being difficult.”

“Didn’t - didn't mean to ruin your big day,” Ben says, breathless. “Want ya - to - be happy - so happy.” 

“I know, okay? I know, of course I do,” Callum presses out between clenched teeth and he wishes that this stupid game of theirs didn‘t suddenly carry so much weight. “But you deserve to be happy too, Ben. So I need to stop you from dying on me right now and that’ll work a whole lot better if you just shut up.”

Ben actually manages to smile a little at Callum’s bluntness, and Callum can’t help but mirror that slight smile, albeit a little crooked, lips bitten to shreds and his eyes red raw from trying to keep the tears at bay.

They watch each other then, Ben’s gaze full of fear; Callum’s too, but Callum refuses to look away, refuses to take his eyes of Ben for even just one second. His head is spinning and spinning and spinning, but outside of his own head, it's still so quiet, like a single word could shatter everything. 

“You’ve always gotta be the centre of attention, ain’t ya?” Callum attempts lightly, a hand to Ben’s forehead, gently pushing back falling hair, drenched with sweat. He was too scared to do anything more, to touch anywhere else, the shuddering breaths Ben was taking, the wince on his face with every exhale, was a stark indication of just how much pain the younger man was in. 

“How bad is it?” Ben asks, battling his eyes open. His eyes were filled with tears, Callum’s heart breaking as he takes in Ben’s pained expression. “Callum? Just tell me.”

The white fabric is stained red through now. “Ain’t even a scratch there mate”

“Must’ve got lucky then,” Ben manages to say, screwing his eyes shut again, his breathing shaky.

“Nothing new there.” 

“My luck’s bound to run out someday,” Ben said, choking out a pained groan, tears streaming down his cheeks. 

“No - don’t - please don’t,” Callum says, still with that same shuddery release of words. 

“Hurts though,” Ben says, his chest hiccups, face crumpling as he finally, finally, starts to cry.

Instinctively, Callum slips his eyes closed, a hot spike of panic shooting up his spine at the thought of being losing Ben.

_ He can’t do this. _

_ He can’t lose another person he cares about. _

_ At least, he can’t without letting them know how much they mean to him. _

There’s so much that Callum wants to say, but he doesn’t know how to start, where to start. Doesn’t know how to communicate the millions of thoughts that are tearing him up inside. 

“Whitney - she - she told me to find my person,” Callum says eventually, heart is filling up his throat, making his words choked. “I think that’s you Ben. I think you might be my person.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, so you’ve gotta hold on, okay? Gotta see if you tick all the boxes.” 

“I’ve already ticked one, mate.” 

Outside, sunshot rays were bursting through clouds of dust and lighting the entire room, all the chaos and panic, all the blood and tears. Callum was sure he was hallucinating, how could things look so still, so peaceful, _ so beautiful, _when lives were being lost and hearts broken. 

It’s not fair.

It’s not fair. It’s not fair. _ It’s not fucking fair. _

He repeats it, over and over, blood bubbling in his veins as his chest heaving. He wants to yell, wants to push his window open and yell to the whole town, to the whole world. He wants to say:_ Why? Why him? **Why not me?**_ He wants to kick and thrash and scream like a child, wants to stand up on a table and spread his arms out and shoot that fucking bastard right back.

But he can’t, because Ben needs him.

Only Ben’s gone quiet beneath him. The room is deadly silent and Ben hasn’t opened his eyes for almost five seconds. 

“Ben?” Callum pleads, his voice echoing in the silence. “Ben - open your eyes - please Ben.” The oxygen in his lungs isn’t enough, suddenly, and he has to pause to take in panicked little breaths.

He shakes at Ben’s body with one hand, careful to keep the other tight on the wound, but there’s no response, not even a flicker. “No!” Callum scream. “No, no, no, no – wake up, Ben” He shakes Ben’s shoulders almost violently, his chest closing up.

Any second now, Ben’s going to open his eyes. He’s going to take a deep breath open his eyes and flash this stupid little smile at Callum.

But he doesn’t. He is completely, utterly still. His hair is matted messily across his forehead, eyelashes splayed along pale cheeks. Callum hovers over him, still waiting, waiting, because he’s going to wake up, he always does. 

“Ben, please wake up. I need ya,” his voice shatters before he can get the full word out, and the tears that had been brimming in his eyes now spill over like a broken dam, flowing hot and salty down his cheeks. 

The truth of it hits him like a tidal wave. His heart splinters and fractures and falls to pieces as he stares at Ben and memories rush through his mind. Memories he once willed away, memories he once wished were just fantasies, memories he would go to the ends of the earth to retain, now. 

He feels like he’s about to throw up, kill something, tear his own feelings apart. Instead, he presses his face to Ben’s chest and cries into torn and bloodstained fabric. This wave of regret keeps slamming into him, over and over and over, dragging him down and keeping him from surfacing. 

_ I should’ve done more. _

_ I should never have text Ben to come here. _

_ I shouldn’t have wasted all that time. _

The sounds of sirens ring through the pub, waking it from the deathly silence. Mick is by his side again then, prizing Callum’s body away from Ben’s own. The paramedics take his place but Callum never strays too far. 

The metallic taste of blood is thick in his mouth. As his eyes slips his eyes closed against Mick’s shoulder, Callum prays to a God he doesn’t believe in.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm @dingletragedy on tumblr xx


End file.
